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THE LITTLE GREEN ONES

 

IN the windows tood a rose treelatelyblooming withyouthbut now it look edsicklysomething ailed it

Ithad got a company quartered on it which ate it upotherwise a very respectable companyin green uniform Ispoke with oneofthemhewasonly threedays old and already a great-grandfatherDo you know what he said Itwas true what hesaid he spoke of himself and the whole company.

"Wearethe most remarkableregimentamong all the creaturesofearth In the warm season webear living young onesthe weather is good then andwe betroth ourselves at once and celebrate the weddingTowards the cold season we lay eggs and the little ones lie snug in them That wisest of animals the antwe have a great respect for itstudies us and values us It does not eat us at once it takes our eggslaysthem in the com mon anthill of thefamily on thegroundfloorlays us marked and numbered,side by side layer on layerso that every day afresh one canspringoutthe eggthen they set us in stalls stroke us overthe hind legs and milk us sothatwe dieThat isextremely comfortable Among them we have the most charming name'Sweet littlemilk cow' All the animals with the understanding ofthe ant call us so only human beingsand it is a great insultto us it is enough toloseone's sweetness over,—can you not write against it can you not reprimand themthese human beings?—theylook at us so stupidly look sullen because we eat a roseleaf while they themselves eat all living tingseverything which is green and growsThey call us the most contemptuous name the most disgusting name;Iwill notnameit ugh it turns me sick!I cannot sayit at least in uniform andI am always in uniform"

"Iwasborn on a rosetree leaf Iand thewhole regiment live on the rosetree but it lives again in us who belong tothe higher orderofcreation Men cannot tolerate us theycome and murder uswithsoap-suds it is anasty drink IthinkI smell it It is frightful to be washed whenone isborn nottobewashed"

" Man Thou who lookest upon me with severesoapsuddy eyes think of our place in nature our ingenious equipment forlaying eggs and producing youngWe received the blessing'Increaseand multiply' We are born in roses we die in roses thewhole of our life is poetry Fix not upon us the name thoudeemest most hor- rid and ugly thename,—Icannotsayit cannot name it callusthe milkcowoftheants theregiment of the rosetree the little green ones"

AndI the human being stood and looked at the tree and at thelittlegreen oneswhose nameI shall not name nor offend a rosecitizen a great family with eggs andlivingyoung The soapsudsI meant to wash them withforI had comewith soapsuds and wicked intentions), Iwillnowwhip up and blowintofrothblow soap-bubblesandgaze on theirbeautyPerhaps a story lies in every oneofthemAndthe bubble grew so big with glittering coloursandin it there layas itwerea silver pearl at the bottom The bubble floated and soared flewagainst the doorandburstbutthe doorflew open and there stood Mother Fairy Tale herself

"Yes now she can tell better thanI canaboutI willnot say thename!—thelittlegreen ones""Plant lice" said Mother Fairy Tale"One should callevery thing by its right name;and if onedaresnotdo it as a usual thing one can do it in a fairy tale"

 


 

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